Chessboard
by candycop99
Summary: Clary has been bullied for almost her whole life. When Clary moves her Freshman Year, she changes big time. Then, she comes back Senior Year to take revenge on those who bullied her. Everyone is shocked to see that the nerdy Clary that left, did not come back. With that, Clary begins her game. "It's like chess, but with people." Clace eventually. T for language.
1. Memories

**Hello people of Fanfiction! This is my new story that thought of and I hope you enjoy it.**

**Sorry this is one of those ideas I couldn't get out of my head. I will be updating The School of Skilled People hopefully soon if anybody was wondering.**

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT own The Mortal Instruments. Although that will be cool... I only own the plot of this story and copy right is not appreciated.**

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Chessboard

Chapter 1: Memories

Clary's POV

Airplanes suck. I hate it when they make my ears pop and when I feel like I'm about to fall right out of the sky. There aren't many perks, but I do know one. It's taking me to the place where I can finally start my little game. Raziel High.

**o.O.o.O.o. Flashback Freshman Year at Raziel High School o.O.o.O.o.**

_I ran to the girls bathroom, spaghetti still splattered on top of my vibrant, red hair. Tears were starting to appear in my eyes. I hate my hair. I hate my shortness. I hate my skinny figure. And I especially hate Jace Herondale. He may be the biggest jerk in the world. No correction, he IS the biggest jerk in the world. I know I'm not popular; nerdy glasses, braces, and all that. But I just don't get why he doesn't like me. He doesn't even have to like me! He can at least try to be civil!_

_Thank god nobody's here. It would be even more embarrassing if they had to witness me crying my eyes out over some dick who 'accidentally' tripped and spilled the contents of his lunch tray all over me._

_I gotta stop crying. I have to stay strong. I have to stay STRONG. My mantra repeated itself in my head like it had been for the last few years. I straightened myself up and walked towards the mirror. And like I expected, my eyes were red and puffy and spaghetti was still resting on top of my hair. Oh god, I can't go back to class looking like this! It would be like throwing myself into a pack of wolves! I picked out the horrid school's Italian disaster and tried clean myself up. When I got every last piece of noodle out of my hair, I pulled up my hoodie and walked towards the door. I kept my head low and tried to keep under the radar while I quickly went to my locker. The bell that signaled lunch over, had already rung and teenagers everywhere were hustling around trying to get to their lockers. Being short did not make my case any better than anyone else._

_When I finally reached my locker, I hurriedly spun my code and opened the locker door thinking I would find the normal scenery of books. What I haven't thought that I'd be seeing was red. Red paint to be exact. My locker literally exploded towards me and splattered paint all over my face and clothes. I tried wiping the horrid stuff off myself, but I only succeeded in smudging it even further. I heard laughter around me rise and a few clicks of cameras going off. Before I knew what I was doing, I ran off towards the front door._

_Once I put a sizable distance between me and that horrid school, I started to walk and before I knew it I had started crying. It just wasn't fair! Me, Clary Fray, has been bullied all her life for simply doing nothing! Why me? Why does it have to be me?!_

_My mom was right at the door when I got home, asking me questions and everything. I just stared at her, waiting for her to be quiet and once she did I simply just told her something I've been wanting to say for a while._

_"Mom, I want to switch schools." I stared at her with pleading eyes. Finally I added, "Please." It barely rose from a whisper, though I knew that she had heard it. She smiled sadly, "Well today's your lucky day. Work offered me a job in California. We're expected to be on a fight there tomorrow." I couldn't help the smile that was starting to form on my face._

_"What about Jon, is he staying here?" Jonathan, my older brother, moved out last year and is currently staying in an apartment close by. "Yes, Clary. Jonathan has to stay in New York. He has a job and everything here." I saddened a bit at that thought. I loved Jonathan a lot even if he was a bit overprotective. If he had known about all the trouble that was going on at my school, he probably would have torn Jace's head off. Not that I would have mind or anything... But the reason I didn't tell him is that if he did that, he wouldn't have stopped. Nobody can control an angry Jonathan and he would've gone around the town like Godzila, stomping on cars and wrecking havoc on everybody. That would have been hard to explain to the police..._

_An idea began to form in my head. Something that I can do to show the people at Raziel High that I wasn't just that nerd that got bullied and moved away the next day and was never seen again._

_"Mom, how about this. Once I get into my senior year of high school, I come back here in New York, stay with Jon at his apartment, and go to school here." My mother thought about this for a quick second. "I guess you can do that if it's OK with Jonathan." she said. I nodded, eagerly._

_I can show them. I can show that I can change, that they made a huge mistake in bullying me. I'll show them revenge for all those years of being pushed around, teased, and discouraged. Yes, I can do this. And, I will most definitely make Jace Herondale pay for all those years of my misery._

**o.O.o.O.o.O.o End of Flashback o.O.o.O.o.O.o.**

"Miss. Excuse me Miss. The plane has landed and everyone is already leaving." I smiled at the stewardess who had shook me wake from the memories of my past.

"Thank you. I was just spacing out a little." I gathered my things and walked out of the plane on my 6 inch heel stilettos. Oh, this is definitely going to be a good year.

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**I apologize for any mistake I made in this chapter. Note that this was not beta-ed.**

**Thank you for reading this story! I'll update this story when I have the chance to.**

**REVIEW, FOLLOW, AND FAVORITE! IT ONLY TAKES ABOUT A MINUTE.**


	2. The Story Begins

**Hi guys! I'm guessing from the good response I got, that you people actually like this story :D A special thanks to the people who reviewed, favorited, and followed my story :)**

**So this story is actually ****_beta-ed. _****I know, that's freaking awesome. Thanks****_ rcs17! *_****waves****_*_**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments series or it's amazing characters. I'm just a person who loves them both.**

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Chessboard Chapter 2: The Story Begins

**Clary's POV**

Once I get all of my luggage off of the carousel, I start to search for Jonathan. It's been so long since I've seen him last and I can't wait to see how's he's been fending for himself in this big city. As I search for my brother, I notice something different. Before, when I was in crowds like this, I would've found myself pushing though people and getting elbowed in the side. Now, without a second thought people just look up and make way for me. I grinned. Looks like I have that effect on people now.

I spot a flash of pale blonde and instantly know who it is. Quickly, I run up behind the person and tap him on the shoulder. A familiar face comes into my line of sight and I smile.  
"Hi-" Before I can finish my sentence he interrupts me. "Yeah, I'm sorry if I'm being rude, but I'm trying to find my little sister. By any chance have you seen her? Um long frizzy red hair, dorky looking glasses, really really short?"  
He looks like he honestly doesn't know that the little sister he spoke of is standing in front of him! I put my hands on my hips and stare him straight in the eye. "Jonathan. I'm really disappointed in you." His eyes widened as realization came crashing down on him. "I can't believe you can't recognize your little sister," I mumble. And before I know it, strong arms wrap tightly around me.  
"Clary. Oh my god Clary. You're not short anymore! And what happened to your glasses? Your hair looks...normal!" I roll my eyes at him. "Well as normal as fire red hair gets..."  
I slap at him playfully. "Oh yeah, tell that to mom."  
He chuckles at me. "Come on Clare, let's get you and all your belongings to my apartment. The first day of school is tomorrow, you wouldn't want to miss that, would you?"  
Oh, Jon. If only you knew exactly how much I want to go to school... I nodded.  
"Let's go."

**:0.:0.:0.:0.:0.:0.: ****_Arriving at the apartment_**** 0.:0.:0.:0.:0.:0**

"Hey Clary!" Jon calls out as he carried my bags towards the building, "When did you learn to walk in heels?" I roll at my eyes at him, not for the first time today. I strut towards the complex as I shout back at him, "When I became a model!"

When he finally catches up with me, he's out of breath from carrying all my bags. Between pants, he gets out a few comprehensive words. "Model-*pant*- huh-*pant, pant*-when...?"

"I'll explain it later, Jon. Can we go up now?" He hands me the keys and directs me to where he lived. I unlock his door and was surprised when a flash of red bursts out at my face. I try to suppress that painful memory but fail.  
_'What I hadn't thought that I'd be seeing was red. Red paint, to be exact.'_  
I shake off that flashback quickly and come back to reality. No, it isn't paint. It's...confetti? I hear a bunch of people start to shout.

"SUPR-" Staring at me are many pairs of eyes. The owners of the eyes all seem to be expressing the same 'what the hell' faces. They stare at me, shocked for some reason. I mentally giggle. The effect I have on boys... One of the boys that was staring at me finally broke the silence and yells:

"DUDE! YOU SAID SHE WAS NERDY! NOT FUCKING HOT!" I roll my eyes at the idiotic boy. I fake a yawn and stretch, making the boys eyes bulge; my shirt is just about a crop-top. Teasing boys is pretty fun to watch if you ever want to try it. The struggle they face...

"Jon, the flight really tired me out and all of these boys staring at me is starting to get creepy." I shoot a pointed glare at each of them. Apparently they all know of Jon's anger issues and look away hurriedly, clearing their throats and such.

Jonathan shows me to my room and leaves me to settle down. I look around my to find that all of the walls were still plain white. I'd have to change that soon...  
After unpacking everything into their respected places, I lie down on my bed and close my eyes. It's edging closer to the start of the game and soon, I'll be able to move the pieces.  
**  
XDXDXDXDXD ****_Next Morning _****XDXDXDXDXDXD  
**  
I wake up to an unfamiliar celling. The groan I make sounds pretty loud. Let's hope I didn't wake anybody. Just when I was about to lay back down on my comfy pillow, my door opened with a bang.

"Oh no you don't, Clary. You're not going to go back to sleep. After all the changes you went through, you're still not a morning person." I glare at him, hoping that if I stare hard enough he would burst into a million tiny pieces. Before I can continue my wonderful dreams, my pillow gets ripped out from under me. Next thing I know, I'm being carried out of my bed and dropped into my shower. Let me tell you, the cold spray of water that hit me isn't very pleasant.

"JONATHAN!" I hear the water being turned off. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT FOR!" I'm so angry, I swear steam's coming out of my ears. Get this, all he does is _tsk _at me! Yes, _TSK!_

"Clary, I did not agree to this deal just to have you slack off of school." School. _School._ _SCHOOL! _Crap! _I forgot about school! _Imentally curse myself. _I forgot about my game._

"Jonathan, get out. I'm going to get ready, OK?" He grins and nods. After stripping off my soaking wet pajamas, I take a quick shower and blow dry my hair quickly. I decide to let my hair flow freely in its natural waves. In my robe, I run to my and shuffled through my clothes. I finally choose my outfit, which consists of sheer black tights with black leather shorts on top, a gray crop top that cut off at the midriff and showed off my belly button ring, and my favorite red leather jacket. I put everything on and tie up my black combat boots. Running into my bathroom, I swiftly apply a bit of black mascara and eyeliner to make my eyes pop.

Downstairs, I eat breakfast quickly and run outside with my backpack slung over my shoulder. Checking my phone, I see that I still have about thirty more minutes before the bell rings. I hop on top of my motorcycle (yes, _my_ motorcycle that I paid for with my own modeling money), put on my helmet, and speed off towards school. Looks like it's time for my big entrance.

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**Clary's big entrance in the next chapter! She finally reminisces with the people in her past, including the famous Jace Herondale himself ;) **

**I would also appreciate any of your ideas sent to me. Scenes I could put in the story, how they should act or do, etc. I might even put them in the story! :)**

**Thanks for reading this chapter! I hope it was good enough. Also, I'm making the chapters in this story shorter than The School of Skilled People's. **

**I WON'T UPDATE THE NEXT CHAPTER UNTIL I GET AT LEAST 25 REVIEWS BTW! SO REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW.**


	3. The Entrance

**Ok, so listen to this... THE LAST CHAPTER GOT 27 REVIEWS! :D You guys do realize that I meant 25 reviews altogether right? Not 27 reviews for the chapter? But that's great anyway! I encourage all of you to keep doing so :)**

**Sorry for the people who were expecting more, this is just the entrance. The school part of it and the revelation of the hot Clary will be in the next chapter.**

**To the Guest who reviewed about not making Clary friendless: I promise, I won't :)**

**rcs17, my official new beta everybody, edited this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned The Mortal Instruments... It would have been totally different... I own this plot and this plot only. Sadly.**

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Chessboard Chapter 3: The Entrance

**Clary's POV**

I make my bike go a lot faster once the school was in my sight. I've already planned every little part of my first day of school. My number one rule: Don't tell anyone who you are until the time is right.

I grin to myself once I enter the school's parking lot. Everyone's attention is on me. And when I say everyone, I mean _everyone._Quickly, but not quietly, I ride into an empty parking space and turned off my motorcycle. But before I can get off, I hear a horn beep behind me. With my helmet still on, I get off of my bike and sit down on it sideways. All the eyes staring at me feels a little intense, but I ignore it. I look at the person who had beeped at me, his very expensive-looking sports car running right behind me. I smile once I realized who it was; one of the main pieces of my game. Yes, Jace Herondale, in the flesh.

Jace... Well he basically looks the same, besides growing taller and bulkier he's still recognizable to anyone who used to know him. The golden hair, eyes, and skin are still the same, as far as I can tell.

"What're you doing in my spot?" His voice is still as smooth as I remembered. I smirk to myself, even though no one can see me through my tinted helmet.

With that thought, I swiftly take it off and reply, "So tell me, is your name on it somewhere? Did you piss on it or something? Because technically, it's not /your/ spot."

Yes, not very original, I know, but what I find more entertaining is the look on Jace's face when he first saw _my_ face. I think I might have seen a bit of drool fall out of his open mouth.

He has a dumbfounded face on for a couple seconds before he realizes what he was doing. Jace adopts a calm and collected smirk, the same one he always used to have on. I internally laugh at him.

"I'll let it slide this time, just 'cuz your so hot Miss..." He exaggerates a long pause, probably waiting for me to answer with my name. After a while, he starts to gesture, but then it becomes to point where it makes him look like an idiot. I guess he finally gives up on his righteous path of stupidity and finally asks me what he was so _desperately _trying to say.

"Come on! What's your name?" This time, I actually laugh at him. And then, I keep on laughing. And laughing. And laughing. Well, until I'm interrupted by _him._

"Are you laughing at me?" I quiet down after he asks that. I mumble a barely audible "you were" at him before I answer him more directly.

"Yep. Well I _was._" A faint smile appears on my face.

"I'd have to ask what you were laughing at. I never knew that me being even more awesome than anyone else is that funny." Looks like he's still his cocky self.

"Your arrogance must really annoy you sometimes, " I say to him.

"And why is that, Red?" I ignore the cliché hair-related nickname and respond to him.

"It must be so difficult for you to lug around _such _a giant head." Looking as innocent as I can, I stand up from my motorcycle and walk towards the school building. I hear Jace call after me.

"Wait! What's your name, Red?" I roll my eyes at his persistence. I still stick with my number one rule; it isn't the right time. I continue my on set path towards the school though, I still answer him, turning around to face him.

"Oh, I'm very sure you already know, _Jonathan Christopher Herondale_." I emphasized his full name. With that, I disappear into the toture we call school, while hundreds of eyes follow my every move.

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**LET'S TRY FOR ANOTHER 25!**

**ANYMORE IDEAS ARE WELCOMED!**

**REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!**


	4. Mystery Girl

**Hmmmm... It's been 13 days since I've last updated, I hope you guys aren't angry. BUT, I am ****_really _****with all the reviews I got. 53 for one chapter... I love you guys :) Even with all my homework, I got off my lazy butt and started writing this chapter because all the reviews and positive feedback I got.**

**So as requested by some of my reviewers, here's Jace's POV.**

**Disclaimer: Cassandra Clare everybody, is the true mastermind! I, cannot be as genius as she ****_ever. _****I do hope you guys like this story though****_._**

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Chessboard Chapter 4: Mystery Girl

**Jace's POV**

Wow.

When I pulled up to find a person in my parking space, I really didn't expect to find a gorgeous model-like woman. The way her tinkling voice sounded when she, well, 'owned' me to put it in simpler terms. Those strikingly emerald eyes that seemed to stare deep into my soul. The abundance of gossamer curls that effortlessly fell right into place the whole time. I need to figure out this weird feeling. Oh good god. This small encounter with the beauty somehow managed to turn me into a girl, in less than 5 minutes nonetheless.

The effect she has on me is simply terrifying. I definitely didn't expect her to announce my full name in front of everybody like that. She doesn't seem like the stalker type, so I'll mentally scratch off that possibility. But the thing I find even creepier is that I feel like I already _know_ who she is. I've probably met her before. If only I can figure out what her name is, then maybe I'll be able to identify this unfamiliar feeling.

** . . . . later...**

With a slight slump in my shoulders, I walk to my homeroom. Mystery Girl is still somehow gliding around in my head.

When I do walk into class, I expect everyone to be staring at me, like they always do. Instead I find that all the eyes are on Red. And to my appeal, she's sitting in the usually empty seat right next to mine. Perfect.

Straightening my back, I smile and stride towards the desk. I pull my chair out slowly, making a scraping noise against the floor. As expected, I see Mystery Girl look up and stare right at me as I sit down. The look on her face makes me think that she's debating whether or not she should change seats, and of course she probably is. But thankfully, the teacher walks in looking all professional making Red suddenly look grumpy. And like all boring teachers he starts with roll call, slowly I might add.

The first day of school and I already can't wait until summer break. Almost sighing out loud, I turn to look at Red, still listening to hear my name being called.

"Veronica Evans?" The teacher's voice is dull and monotonous. Since there's no one here with a last name starting with a 'F' or 'G', I start preparing to say the required 'here'.

"Clarissa Fray?"

Bored now with the waiting of names I start, "H-" But, I'm cut short with a single thought. _Clarissa Fray_? As in _Clary_ Fray? The one I used to torture on a daily basis? The one who suddenly moved away? The skinny little red head with untamable hair and dorky glasses perched atop her nose?

"Here." That tinkling sound, it's so... recognizable. No, it can't be. I turn my head carefully towards the source of the voice. The person stares back at me with her piercing green eyes.

Mystery girl... is Clary?

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**Sorry it's kinda short but I have this really big project for school that's due tomorrow and I forgot that it was due tomorrow and I excluded it until the last minute and it's a really big part of my grade and everything so I really, really, really need to finish it. If your reading this now, you've survived my latest rant. :)**

**I'LL TRY TO MAKE THE NEXT CHAPTER LONGER!**

**If you read the top authors note you would have known by now that reviews encourage me to write faster. SO REVIEW! :D**


	5. He-who-shall-not-be-named

**Sorry guys. This update took a bit longer that I thought I would have, but I finally got to do it :) It's not ****_too_**** long, but it ****_is_**** longer than the last chapter. 'nervous laugh'**

**So this chapter has a bit of ****Harry Potter**** humor in the beginning. Well, at least I hope it's humorous... **

**Thanks to all those who reviewed, favorited, and followed. They all brought a smile to my face :D**

**Disclaimer: Me = No rights to story. Me = Only owns plot.**

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Chessboard Chapter 5: He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named

**Clary's POV**

It looks like my secret has been found out. In all honesty, it was perfect timing on my part. I felt like I was going to burst out laughing every time Jace Herondale actually looked at me. Believe me, it's hard to do when He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is staring at me every, single, freaking moment I ever partake in his _glorious _presence. And no, I'm not talking about Voldemort, if anybody is wondering. Although, I probably would have appreciated sitting next to him instead of _him._

So anyway, when the teacher finally puts the list of our names down, the murmurs that had started to appear when my name was called start to grow louder, and the stares become more intense. Throughout the whole class, J—Blondie doesn't speak to me once, which I'm grateful for.

Homeroom continues to go on like this until the bell, thank the Lord—not the Dark Lord—finally rings. I gather my stuff and start to walk out of the classroom until I hear my name being called.

"Hey, Clary!" a feminine voice calls. Okay, so it's _not._.. You know what, I'm just going to say his name from here on out. Yes, it's only been going on for a few minutes, but I've run out of names to call him inside my head besides the common profanity here and there. I sigh. This is making me feel stupid now. Must be from being in close proximity to Jace.

I turn around to see someone I definitely remember. Isabelle Lightwood. Isabelle was always the one who helped me up from all the torturous attempts Jace had made on me. When I left back in Freshman Year, Isabelle had been gone for around a month due to the fact that she had to visit some family in Milan. She doesn't fit your regular rich girl stereotype, though as I remember, she does shop excessively. When I left this town, I also cut off all ties. The last time I had spoken to Isabelle was before she left for her trip. That was one of the few things I actually felt bad about.

Isabelle's neatly manicured hand wraps around my arm and pulls me with her. She leads me into and empty janitors closet, and I let her. I do owe her an explanation.

"Isabelle," I start, "I'm sorry I didn't try to contact you after I left. It's just...I wanted to start fresh over there in California and—" She cuts off my words by wrapping my in a hug.

"Oh Clary, I'm sorry I left you alone here. I'm sorry. I'm _so _sorry. I knew I shouldn't have gone on that damn trip, but I wasn't allowed to refuse it. But look at how much you've grown up! And your taste in clothes has soared way up there. I congratulate you on that." I smile. Only Isabelle would talk about clothes at a crucial reunion.

"Well, Isabelle, I bet that you'd be proud of me now because... I've become a model." I must have guessed correctly, because Isabelle is nearly screaming with joy in front of me.

We talk a bit more and exchange numbers, promising each other that we would sit by each other at lunch. I can practically hear the future shopping trip ringing in my ears.

Isabelle and I both walk to lunch together after we finish our morning classes. We also found out that we both have a lot of classes together, which I'm grateful for, since I don't want to make any new friends. People I don't trust can complicate my game, and no mistake can be made if my plan is to actually work.

I see that the school hasn't changed it's lunch menu. Bon appetite, everybody, 'cuz spaghetti's the main course today. It's like they _knew_ I was coming, and they wanted to give me a chance for payback.

In the lunch line, I actually get the non-cooked noodles covered in a suspicious looking sauce, though I'm not going to _consume_ it in any way. On my way back to my table, I spot a place where I can dump my 'meal.'

Yes, the perfect spot is, of course, on Jace Herondale's head. I mean, payback's a bitch. Isn't that right, Jace?

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**So I've been trying to come up with a more broader view on Clary-personality wise-and I don't know which combination I should choose. So I'm having you guys decide :D The choices are:**

**1. Artistic?**

**2. Athletic?**

**3. Musical?**

**4. All of the above**

**5. A combination between two (name which one)**

**Just review the one you think I should use and I'll have Clary's personality be the one with the most votes :)**


	6. Goldie Locks and the Three Bimbos

**Hi guys! I'm back from the dead :D I finally got a chance to write the next chapter since it's Spring Break over where I live, but of course it doesn't feel like Spring... Anyway, so this chapter is longer than all the other chapters I have written for Chessboard so I hope you like it :)**

**Disclaimer: I'm preeeettttyyyy sure I would abuse the power Cassandra Clare had if I were her, but I'm not so I can't.**

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Chessboard Chapter 6: Goldilocks and the Three Bimbos

**Clary's POV**

My little stunt at lunch earns me an uncomfortable seat in the principal's office. But Jace gets one too, and currently he's picking out uncooked noodle from his head full of golden locks. Ha. Goldilocks.

Principal Garroway sits in front of us, not moving, not even talking, but studying us. It's been like this for a while now and I don't mind, seeing that the more time we sit here, the more time I don't have to go to yet another probable snooze-fest of a class.

The silence is broken by the principal, who seems to have finished his studying.

"Jonathan Herondale, what in gods name have you done to the poor girl?" The 'Jonathan' in question looks like he wants to argue against him, but Principal Garroway continues.

"With your record, Jonathan, I'm going to have to say that the most likely explanation is that you provoked her in some way, shape, or form," he says.

"But"

"So I'm letting you both off with a warning. And Jonathan, if I see you in this office one more time, I promise you it won't just be for a warning." Jace's head slumps downwards, effectively spilling some noodles and red sauce onto the floor.

Principal Garroway shoos us both out of his office and into the hallway, telling us both to get back to class. Jace has a troubled look on his face, probably thinking over the whole conversation with the principal. As for me, I'm happy that I didn't get in trouble for the little 'stunt' I pulled in the cafeteria, even though I already know that I won't get in trouble with Mr. Garroway anyway.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Goldilocks finally got his big head out of the porridge.

I turned around to face him and replied: "I believe, that _you_ already know who I am."

I spin on my heel and swiftly walk away.

. .oOo.

I was very sure I wouldn't have gotten in trouble anyway. You see, Principal Garroway's a dear friend of my momso I, being the evil genius I am, I recruit my mom's friend into my game. Noted for my 'exceptional behavior' my ass. Plus, more pieces on my side means less that will be taken from me.

Anyway, I don't see the point in going to classso instead, I decide to stay at my locker. Which, of course, concludes with me 'fiddling' around with my phone.

When the bell finally rings, I head out to find Isabelle so we could walk to our next class together, gym.

**(A/N: I was going to stop here, but I didn't!)**

. .oOo.

The gym teacher must have thought something along the lines of 'What the hell? Why not toture these kids some more on their first day?' when he made us all change into our gym clothes. So here I am, standing in a grey tank-top and black athletic short shorts. Get this: he tells us after we change that we aren't going to do anything that 'would get our heart rate up' and that he 'just wanted to test us'. What a dick.

Now, all of us sit on the bleachers while the athletic teams demonstrates their skills, which isn't much . When it's the cheerleaders' turn to 'present' they say that they will do a little 'cheer,' which ends being a bunch of heavily make-up faced bimbos trying to imitate Miley Cyrus and dancing to some stripper song. All the boys seem to like it, though. That also unfortunately includes the Coach too.

When they all finish their little 'dance,' the head cheerleader makes a small speech with her two cheerleader friends flanking her sides.

"Cheerleading auditions are going to be like held after school." Her screechy voice makes me cringe. "But I doubt like any one of you have, like, enough talent to make it, like, _in_ anyway." At this, Isabelle and I look at each other and laugh out loud. Everybody looks at us, but we continue on laughing.

An equally screechy voice as the previous cheerleader speaks up.

"What are _you_ two laughing at?" When we finally stop laughing, Isabelle has to lean on me for support.

"Well," I say, imitating their voice, "like, I believe that, like, what we just saw like didn't look like talent, like, at all." Isabelle nods her head in agreement, still on the verge of laughter.

The bimbos look annoyed.

"Well," Crony Number Two starts to say, "like, you two aren't possibly, like, as good as us." Isabelle and I almost burst out laughing again but we contain ourselves quickly. This time Isabelle spoke.

"You wanna bet?"

"Sure, let's bet," they reply in complete unison.

At this, Isabelle and I exchange secret smiles. What everyone else don't know is that Isabelle and I have been gymnastic prodigies since we were little, and that we took various dance classes together. So yes, we most definitely are better than them.

When we were in our earlier teens, I remember that we promised each other that we would both become cheerleaders in high school and show up those bitches that they became. We even made up cheers. Yes, that's right. _Cheers_.

I glance over at Isabelle and nod. She knows exactly what I mean with no extra explanation needed. That is _exactly_ why she is my best and only friend.

Our cheer consists of us calling everybody a dumbass and doing some pretty awesome flips cheer leading stunts. At the end, everybody's mouths are wide open, bimbos included.

Once all the shock wears off of everybody, the head cheerleader steps forward towards us with her little friends, and asks:

"Um, well like, um do you guys, like, um want to, um join the team?" she says the last part so fast and quietly that I almost don't hear it. Isabelle and I both look at each other and laugh simultaneously.

Still laughing, I answer them.

"I thought we weren't 'good' enough to be on the team." Their cheeks burn red, and their eyes seemingly blaze for a second before returning to normal. Before she gets the chance to speak again Isabelle speaks up.

"And," she says," we'll let you guys figure that out during tryouts. Isn't that how it's supposed to work?" With smug looks on our faces, we walk together back up the bleachers, completely satisfied with our work. Little do I know, Goldilocks is standing in the shadows, watching me and everything I did, taking note of my actions and storing them away for use later.

* * *

**Well why do you guys think that Jace was watching Clary? Revenge? Or something else...? You'll find out in the next chapter XD**

**If you guys have any ideas that you want to put in the next chapter review it (or PM me) and I'll see if I can put it in :)**

**Oh and since I have more time this week I will be trying to answer all the reviews that I get, just wanted to let you guys know.**

**The poll from the last chapter! I was very surprised in the amount of people that voted, but I counted them all up :) The scores:**

**1.) Artistic: 12**

**2.) Athletic: 2**

**3.) Musical:1**

**4.) All: 24**

**5.) Combination...**

**Athletic and Artistic: 12**

**Artistic and Musical: 3**

**So yes the category All (Artistic, Athletic, and Musical) won with a whooping 24 votes! I snuck in a bit of athleticism in this chapter for you guys ;)**


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